“I took care of that guy Velasco.”
Velasco was a Cardinal from Salamanta who had been executed by the Pope a few days earlier for bribery.
“I couldn’t help it. He had no intention of cooperating with the ‘cause.’”
The Pope placed the next drop of purple liquid on his tongue and slowly sucked it down.
“If a thing that size isn’t going to help, it should be removed.”
Tak. Tak. Tak.
The sound of anxious footsteps filled the Pope's bedroom.
Born into a prominent family in the Etruscan kingdom, the young master lived a life of luxury and pleasure. Even after he devoted himself to the priesthood and became the Pope, he was unable to abandon the habits of luxury and pleasure that he had enjoyed throughout his life.
It was only late in life that he was able to acquire the frugality of Gon's teachings, all thanks to his beloved disciple, Archbishop Arthur of Buschduren.
“You son of a bitch! Arthur, you son of a bitch!”
He kicked his feet violently. Then he bent over and suffered for a long time from the sharp pain that shot up from the tips of his toes.
“How I loved myself...! What a fool!”
Arthur, Archbishop of Buschduren, whom he had chosen as his successor, poisoned Pope Louis.
It wasn't because he hated the Pope. It was because Pope Louis was planning the Fourth Crusade.
“Love the people! You must not let the lives of the people of the Central Continent be miserable, Your Holiness!”
Arthur was tortured to death with his limbs tied together with ropes, and even while he was praying to the Pope.
“Poor thing, they can’t endure any more expeditions!”
Pope Ludovico, looking at the sight, beat his chest in frustration.
“Why don’t you realize that spiritual salvation is true salvation by becoming a priest?”
“I have traveled all over Trevero carrying Your Holiness’s relief supplies. I have seen the bare faces of the people. While the head of the household is dragged off to the sandy desert to do military service, the rest of the family is dying like a bundle of cut straw.”
The Pope's Fourth Crusade was to be different from previous crusades.
Unlike the first three crusades, which had sent only knights, that is, high-level fighting units, the Pope intended to send not only knights but also a large infantry corps.
The infantry was a combat unit, but at the same time, it was the future inhabitants who would settle on the land.
In the Pope's imagination, Louis' Fourth Crusade was a great army that would enter the land of Jesak, conquer the interior of the Moorish empire bordering it, and turn it into a Jesapid settlement.
“This, too, is the great will of the Heavenly God! It is an essential sacrifice for the restoration of the old land as commanded in the “Meditation Record”! You, my most beloved disciple, could not do this to me. Speak, who asked you to die for me?”
“I am the one behind the assassination attempt on His Majesty!”
Arthur never revealed the truth and was tortured to death, opening his eyes.
The enraged Pope Louis had many killed in Trevero, including his long-time attendant, who was suspected of poisoning him himself.
The scale of the purge reached nearly a thousand people.
Pope Louis, however, still could not believe that Arthur was the sole mastermind behind the assassination and summoned foreign Princes whom he considered suspicious.
Only after killing Cardinal Velasco did he begin to slowly come to terms with the fact that the real mastermind might really be Archbishop Arthur of Buschduren.
The King of the Kingdom of Salamanta and his confidant, Cardinal Velasco, were the people he most strongly suspected of being behind his assassination.
The Pope put his most skilled torturers to work on Cardinal Velasco, who was easily in his grasp.
But the truth that was revealed after all the strange and bizarre tortures that no human could endure was that Cardinal Velasco really knew nothing.
“Your Holiness, King Salamanta is not a man of such broad vision.”
The iron-clad Marquis of Variati, who had handed Cardinal Velasco over to Pope Ludovico, reported slickly.
“King Salamanta could probably envision Cardinal Velasco as the next Pope to benefit the kingdom. However, the future of the Central Continent, or what would happen after the world of the Presbyterians expands to other continents by annexing the lands of the pagans, is beyond King Salamanta’s imagination.”
“Since you have such short vision, how can you oppose my grand plan?”
“Those with short vision do not take risks.”
It was a philosophy worth listening to. Pope Ludovico was starting to be persuaded. The iron-clad Variati nodded lightly after hearing that.
“If you need a loyal dog, please contact me anytime.”
He was also praiseworthy for knowing full well that he was a dog and not the sword of the Pope. He was a useful man.
But Pope Louis had no need for a sharp sword as long as his deposits continued to flow.
After the iron-clad baryarch withdrew, the Pope, left alone, muttered.
“I’ll be dead in half a year at most.”
It was while humming a tune. Variati would have cooperated fully in anticipation of a future employment contract, but it didn't work out.
It was a hum that came from the primal pleasure of screwing someone. Now that he thinks back on that time, it was still thrilling.
The Pope, who had been humming a melody without lyrics, suddenly came to his senses at the sound of the youngest priest's frightened voice.
“Your Holiness, the person you were looking for has arrived. He is the Aberruche Deputy Director...”
“I have traveled all over Trevero carrying Your Holiness’s relief supplies. I have seen the bare faces of the people. While the head of the household is dragged off to the sandy desert to do military service, the rest of the family is dying like a bundle of cut straw.”
The Pope's Fourth Crusade was to be different from previous crusades.
Unlike the first three crusades, which had sent only knights, that is, high-level fighting units, the Pope intended to send not only knights but also a large infantry corps.
The infantry was a combat unit, but at the same time, it was the future inhabitants who would settle on the land.
In the Pope's imagination, Louis' Fourth Crusade was a great army that would enter the land of Jesak, conquer the interior of the Moorish empire bordering it, and turn it into a Jesapid settlement.
“This, too, is the great will of the Heavenly God! It is an essential sacrifice for the restoration of the old land as commanded in the “Meditation Record”! You, my most beloved disciple, could not do this to me. Speak, who asked you to die for me?”
“I am the one behind the assassination attempt on His Majesty!”
Arthur never revealed the truth and was tortured to death, opening his eyes.
The enraged Pope Louis had many killed in Trevero, including his long-time attendant, who was suspected of poisoning him himself.
The scale of the purge reached nearly a thousand people.
Pope Louis, however, still could not believe that Arthur was the sole mastermind behind the assassination and summoned foreign Princes whom he considered suspicious.
Only after killing Cardinal Velasco did he begin to slowly come to terms with the fact that the real mastermind might really be Archbishop Arthur of Buschduren.
The King of the Kingdom of Salamanta and his confidant, Cardinal Velasco, were the people he most strongly suspected of being behind his assassination.
The Pope put his most skilled torturers to work on Cardinal Velasco, who was easily in his grasp.
But the truth that was revealed after all the strange and bizarre tortures that no human could endure was that Cardinal Velasco really knew nothing.
“Your Holiness, King Salamanta is not a man of such broad vision.”
The iron-clad Marquis of Variati, who had handed Cardinal Velasco over to Pope Ludovico, reported slickly.
“King Salamanta could probably envision Cardinal Velasco as the next Pope to benefit the kingdom. However, the future of the Central Continent, or what would happen after the world of the Presbyterians expands to other continents by annexing the lands of the pagans, is beyond King Salamanta’s imagination.”
“Since you have such short vision, how can you oppose my grand plan?”
“Those with short vision do not take risks.”
It was a philosophy worth listening to. Pope Ludovico was starting to be persuaded. The iron-clad Variati nodded lightly after hearing that.
“If you need a loyal dog, please contact me anytime.”
He was also praiseworthy for knowing full well that he was a dog and not the sword of the Pope. He was a useful man.
But Pope Louis had no need for a sharp sword as long as his deposits continued to flow.
After the iron-clad baryarch withdrew, the Pope, left alone, muttered.
“I’ll be dead in half a year at most.”
It was while humming a tune. Variati would have cooperated fully in anticipation of a future employment contract, but it didn't work out.
It was a hum that came from the primal pleasure of screwing someone. Now that he thinks back on that time, it was still thrilling.
The Pope, who had been humming a melody without lyrics, suddenly came to his senses at the sound of the youngest priest's frightened voice.
“Your Holiness, the person you were looking for has arrived. He is the Aberruche Deputy Director...”
The Pope, trying to remember who it was, clapped his hands.
“Oh. That guy.”
He was a local priest who was called in to overthrow Cardinal de Mare of the Etruscan kingdom.
Cardinal de Mare prevented the Pope from allowing the Inquisitor to do some dirty work to increase his power.
The Abbey of Aberruche was said to have rebelled against the Cardinal during this process.
“If he were a local priest, wouldn’t he know a lot about the Cardinal’s weaknesses?”
After only a cursory glance at the documents, Pope Louis assumed that the sub-abbot of the Abbey of Aberruche was a commoner in his forties who had risen from the ranks of local priests.
The most ordinary person who could be the deputy director of the Abbey would have been an investigator like that, so it wasn't a wrong prediction.
The boy priest lowered his head and trembled.
The guest he saw waiting outside seemed to be something different from what the Pope had expected, but he was afraid of what kind of repercussions he might get if he dared to say, "I don't think you're an ordinary local priest."
This is because he has seen too many seniors lose their heads over one wrong word in the past few months.
“After all, hometown people are the best. Come on in.”
Pope Louis opened the door himself. The guest waiting outside raised his head.
He was a handsome man in his twenties. He walked into Pope Ludovico's office with a half-moon smile.
***
Ariadne opened her eyes to the blinding sunlight.
“Umm...”
It was quite late for her, who would wake up at dawn and start getting ready unless she was depressed. Her whole body ached as if she had been beaten.
“Are you awake?”
Alfonso asked with a slightly lowered voice. He was already up and drying his wet hair with a towel, as if he had just washed up.
“Yeah, I’m really hungry... Ouch.”
Ariadne, who was about to stand up to follow Alfonso, bit her lip in excruciating pain.
It was child's play that she had a dull ache and muscle pain all over her lower body. It felt like her lower body had been ripped apart by a knife.
“Don't move.”
Alfonso ran over and wrapped her in a thin blanket, then picked her up and carried her under the blanket.
“People... no. Just call someone.”
Alfonso, realizing that this was not a comfortable place for Ariadne but his own residence, changed his words.
Ariadne always had a red-haired maid with her to look after her, but he heard she left her behind on her trip to Trevero to look after the house.
It must have been uncomfortable in many ways. Unless you were a completely trustworthy maid, you would have been worried that something might get to Cardinal de Mare.
Of course, she had no choice but to do it herself. However, Ariadne was disgusted when she heard Alfonso's words.
“I’m going to shower, how do I call you?”
“Why? I can wash it for you.”
He strode straight into the bathroom, holding her in his arms.
“Alfonso. Alfonso.”
Even as Ariadne called his name in surprise, he held her in his arms and entered the bathtub with one leg at a time.
The warm water rose up to his chest. The crisp, pure cotton blanket absorbed the water and swelled in an instant, and moisture enveloped her entire body.
It was an incredibly luxurious get-together, with no thought given to cleaning up afterwards.
Alfonso kissed Ariadne's still-wet crown.
“Now you can ask me to do anything for you. If you don’t want to walk on your own two feet, you can do that.”
If he could, he would even help her breathe.
But Ariadne soon realized that Alfonso's voice was low and penetrating as he spoke.
Normally, she would have just dug right in, like saying that Alfonso was sullen because he wasn't satisfied with their relationship.
In relationships, Ariadne was the kind of person who always expected the worst, then cowered passively to protect herself from heartbreak.
But today, just today, it wasn't like that. The warmth of yesterday gave her the courage to do it today.
“Alfonso. You don’t have to be sorry.”
If this was the man she loved, there was no way he would show his disappointment in her for such a petty reason.
“I wasn’t sick.”
It was a blatant lie. He was twice as big as everyone else, so there was no way she wouldn't get sick.
It was her first time with this body. It was so painful. But the joy of becoming one with him was even greater.
“It was just, everything was good.”
She didn't want to see Alfonso with a gloomy expression. If this was the man she had decided to risk her life for, he must be in a bad mood for some other reason. There must be.
Ariadne met Alfonso's eyes and ran her hand through his wet blond hair.
The woman who was once torn apart by love decided to throw herself into love once again.
Completely. To move towards a world where trust comes before suspicion, understanding comes before misunderstanding, and the world becomes more beautiful because they see it beautifully.
As if she's never been hurt, as if she's never loved.
"I love you."
She whispered. It was a word that needed no further explanation.
“Ari...”
Alfonso also raised his hand and stroked Ariadne's cheek. He could feel her concern.
She guessed he must be feeling guilty because he hurt her.
It was cute, sad, sorry, and unbearably lovely to see her tell such a ridiculous lie so brightly.
But the reason he was so sorry now was different.
He had resolved not to touch Ariadne until she was crowned with the crown of the Princess, but he had broken that resolve.
“...No.”
Alfonso, who was about to hug her first and apologize for not being able to finalize his engagement with Lariesa, simply kept his mouth shut.
Bringing up that name now would only make him feel worse, and it wouldn't do anything good. Instead, he said this.
“Ari. Let’s get married.”
"What?"
Ariadne doubted her ears.
"What?"
“There’s something I learned from this.”
Alfonso smiled faintly.
“You can get married without His Majesty the King’s approval, as long as you sign a piece of paper under the supervision of a priest.”
The smile on his lips gradually deepened.
“Let’s get married.”
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